


Sacrificial Lance

by WHUMPBBY



Series: Sexy times and VLD prompt fills [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A free for all, F/M, Lions are Gods AU, M/M, Multi, and need sex, gets conny pretty soon, starts non-cony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHUMPBBY/pseuds/WHUMPBBY
Summary: “Oh, my own, I will show you pleasures you’ve never dreamed about,” the Lion promised, whispering his words into the soft skin of his new vessel’s navel. “You will be begging to stay underneath me, these child’s plays no more than an interlude to what’s awaiting you now.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired HEAVILY by @hardlynotnever's amazing art you can find here - http://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/151631249750/lance-being-sacrificedknife-play-his-virgin ;]   
> Go have a look and let them know how you like it;D 
> 
> Also, if you like it, let me know, so I can know where to allocate my time;D

Blue Lion watched his tribute with interest form his place on the raised dais in the middle of the dark cave. The only light present came off his own skin - a pale, bluish glow that bared only a scrap of the floor, only enough to see the sacrifice bound at his feet. The priests and faithful remained back, in the shadow, only stilted mutterings and gasps of awe betraying their presence.

As it should be, because he was a creature worth of awe and respect. He was a god and his mortal followers should know their place.

The only person not looking at him with awe, though, was the sacrifice itself.

No wonder, the poor thing was trussed up with harsh ropes, laid out naked on the cold stone altar, bleeding from a dozen cuts across its chest and thighs. The sight of the blood enticed the Lion, brought him closer, lower, close enough to smell the rich iron-warm scent of the substance that just a few moment before gave him a new life and a mortal form.

Ah, the tribute was a boy, from the looks of it, the flesh between its legs familiar - the Lion looked between his own legs, and indeed, his own flesh followed the mold presented. Good, that was more to his liking, there was much pleasure to be got like that.

The tribute’s skin was dark, dusky in the blue gloom, interesting. A careful touch confirmed that it was warm and smooth, shivering when his clawed fingers caressed a sharp hip, slipped into the soft hollow of the taut stomach. The eyes staring at the Lion with horror were blue.

Oh. The Lion stopped his inspection. The tribute was afraid of him. Why? It was a joyous moment, it’s god returning to this dimension! It was a honourable and sacred duty to give one’s blood to him! Didn’t the child know what honour was bestowed upon it?

The Lion leaned over the altar, displeased, and the child flinched away from him, as much as the ropes allowed it. The ropes… were tight. He ran a hand over the bound wrists secured to the altar over the tribute’s head, then over the mouth stuffed full of a cloth gag, over the ankles spread wide and tied down harshly. These ropes weren’t symbolic only… they were holding the boy down, keeping him quiet.

The pretty blue eyes closed tightly when the Lion looked into them, a question written on his face, a displeased growl raising on the bottom of his chest. Did his followers use an unwilling human as a sacrifice to him?! Would they dare!

Ah, the poor thing was shivering now, scared of his loud snarling.

“Shh,” the god whispered to the human, stroking his face with a gentle hand. “Don’t be afraid, little one, you’re in no danger.”

One eye fluttered open before slamming shut again, the boy shook his head and turned it away, away from the soothing touch and a whisper in his thoughts. Insolent little kit!

The Lion rose and smoothly slid onto the altar, crouching over the bound human, smooth feline grace in every move. The blood covered skin enticed and called to him, fresh and dark red.

The taste blossomed across his tongue as the body underneath him shivered and struggled briefly. The boy had to be in pain, the wounds were jagged and uneven, made to bleed freely and plentifully. Disgrace, to mar his sacrifice this way! To damage his tribute, his property!

“Calm, little one,” Blue Lion hummed into the human’s frantic mind, easily slipping his voice between the fevered thoughts of death and pain. “I will not harm you. You are mine, now, aren’t you? You tie me to this world with your blood and your breath, and as long as you live, you will stay by my side. And I by yours.”

The boy stilled under the Lion’s ministrations, finally realising that the rough tongue scraping along his flesh wasn’t followed by sharp fangs. But it was a stillness of fear, the third unsung sibling of the fight and flight. The boy’s breath was coming in quick and feverish, his teeth clenched on the gag. Tears escaped from the corners of his eyes and ran down the ashen cheeks…

“Shhh,” the Lion soothed, nuzzling into the soft, flat stomach in front of his face. “There, there, little one, calm yourself, no harm will befall you. After the ritual is completed you will be free to move as you wish.”

He planned to untie the human before, but… when he was this scared, escape was inevitable, and that would render the ritual useless… with their life forces linked as they were, the bond still fragile and uncertain, there was a chance of both of them dying. But, while for the god it would simply mean return to his formless state, for the boy consequences were much more dire…

And the Lion already liked this little one - he was soft and hard in the right places, pleasing to the eye, and his blood was sweet like nectar. Yes, this one was fitting to be his mate for this life, the Blue Lion intended to keep him!

But for that, they had to finish the ritual.

“Relax, little one,” he purred, nibbling gently at the protruding hip bone and watching in interest as the dusky skin rose in goosebumps when his hands slipped between the tribute’s legs to stroke the soft skin inside his thighs. The boy groaned, trying to arch away, but the Lion didn’t let him. “It will be over soon, sweetling. Give yourself to me and you will feel nothing, but pleasure.”  

His hands didn’t stop the upward stroke, fingertips meeting the groin and slipping underneath, to palm at the perfect globes of firm buttocks - made even harder when the boy arched away from the altar and the touch alike, unknowingly making the Lion’s work easier.

The tribute’s limp manhood was now at the level of his face and the Blue Lion wasted no time before taking it into his mouth - all of it disappeared between the fanged jaws. The boy slammed down into the stone with a hoarse pain-like sound. He trashed a bit, but one hand was enough to hold his hips down and still as the god softly sucked at the soft cock, slowly coaxing it to harden with careful pressure of teeth and tongue, with the knowledge of what the boy liked taken straight out of his brain.

They were the same, in a way. Connected more and more with every passing second. Soon it will be a struggle to tell when one ended and another began.

Thanks to that mystical connection, the Lion knew that his tribute was a virgin of a sort - never tasted by another, but not unknowledgeable of the pleasures his body could experience while being taken. Ah, a memory flowed to the surface of their bond, of a calm, quiet night, a jar of slippery gel and adventuring fingers pressing in and pushing against the secret place inside of this slender body.

The tribute shivered underneath him, clearly remembering the night and the experienced pleasure. It was odd at first, uncomfortable, shameful - but in the end worth it.  

“Oh, my own, I will show you pleasures you’ve never dreamed about,” the Lion promised, whispering his words into the soft skin of his new vessel’s navel. “You will be begging to stay underneath me, these child’s plays no more than an interlude to what’s awaiting you now.”

His words and the images he shared with the human had a desired effect - the cock he paid such tender attention to rose now, fully hard, straining in a perfect arch against the boy’s belly. His thighs quivered, but not from fear, not anymore, the lion drowned that emotion in the well of promises and images of his past lovers, of all the things that could be done to a human body once it gave in to the pleasure.  

The blue eyes looked down at him over the tear-stained, flushed cheeks and lips biting into the drenched gag - there was still a shade of fear in them, an apprehension, need for reassurance. The poor thing has been kidnapped from his home, bound and hurt, and so, so scared…

The Lion purred in sympathy, the sound low and deep, sending small shivers across the boy’s skin where their chests touched. He nuzzled into one tiny nipple and licked it softly in apology for the thoughtlessness of his followers. The nub rose and hardened between his lips, and the boy whimpered when it was released into the cold air of the cave. The Lion calmed the small noise finding a comfortable position between the boys legs and pressing his body to the shivering human one. He was warm now and the shivers slowly died out.

Of course, only until he used the new position to push their groins together and rub his cock against the straining hardness underneath. Yes, that was nice, that was very nice.

“I will have you now,” the Lion promised, leaving little, chaste pecks over the tribute’s lips stretched around the gag. “I will enter you and mate you, and you will become mine, child. And then I will ride you, until you can’t remember that we were ever apart.” The boy made the most delicious noise, like denial mixed into one with desire to be devoured down to the smallest bones. “Yes, little one, shh, shh, you will feel me soon… “ Another small kiss and the swollen lips almost kissed back. Almost. “There, there, sweetling, let me make you mine.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These will be mostly short and filthy;]  
> Let me know if you want some actual plot in these;D

Lance hissed when the god entered him from behind.

Blue Lion hummed in pleasure as his cock was engulfed in a vice-like grip of human flesh; hot as a furnace his human was, always so tight and warm. The body under him shivered when he laid down, flattening himself against it, covering the boy top to bottom in his own warmth. He nuzzled the back of the dark head, the short wispy hair tickled his nose and lips as he mouthed at the slender neck and the delicate shell of the ear.

His kitten always smelled so good, especially during sex, and felt so amazing. All soft and pliant, and making the best sounds. The little gasps as he was filled were the god’s favourite. Yes, he was so happy that he spared the youth - once properly claimed, Lance was a treasure to have, a near perfect vessel and a lover, smart and kind, and lovely.

Well, he still had these moments of rebellion - the idea of being forever tied to an extraterrestrial godly being didn’t sit with him all that well, but Blue Lion knew it was only a temporary hiccup. And he only had his followers to thank for that. Lance wasn’t raised in their midst, had no idea about their religion and the existence of the gods such as him. He was a simple farm-boy who dreamed big dreams, that one day got captured by strangers, bound and blooded, and offered as a tribute to some strange, violent entity.

The fact that the entity turned out to be not so violent and plenty invested in his well-being didn’t seem to do much to change his mindset for the first few days of their acquaintance. Much to the contrary, it only seemed to confuse him even more.

Blue Lion put a lot of work into gentling his tribute, his human, down. Into making him understand his new position and all the perks that came with it. Taking the boy flying was certainly a good idea. As was showing him the temple his followers looked after for almost two hundred years - marbles and rich fabrics, beds strewn with hundreds pillows, pools of warm water to enter at will… it charmed the youth, of course it did, telling him that it’s all his to use now, all his. As long as they stay together, the kit will never lack for nothing.

Of course, the issue of Lance’s family came up, but so far the Lion managed to postpone the discussion that was destined to end badly. The bond was still new and needed constant renewal, Lance had to stay in the temple, preferably on his back, as they worked on it.

All in all it wasn't hard to make him understand the need for repetition - once healed and not terrorised, the kit turned out to be a very sensual being. Soft and smooth, an expanse of his dark skin looked marvelous while stretched leisurely on the pale sheets under the ministrations of the blue hands and lips eager to taste every inch of him. As much as he was still a bit shy and uncertain about being mated, he opened for the Lion every time with surprising grace and willingness.

Blue Lion always ensured that Lance felt as much pleasure as it was possible to give him during mating, to show him how good and right it is to be taken. Sometimes he kept the boy on the verge of coming for the longest time - all to make him bold and unafraid to ask for pleasure. And hearing his lovely voice high and gasping, begging for more, was an experience worthy of a god.

Like now, when he pushed steadily into the slender body while also keeping it partly immobilised. Lance was laying on his belly underneath the god, hands resting on the sheets by his head - dusky fingers entwined with the blue ones, sharp claws resting harmlessly against thin knuckles. Blue Lion held on to his human like that, keeping him safe, keeping his hands from venturing lower where he fitted his knees between the slender thighs and pushed them apart and up, the supple behind angling right into his thrusts.

Lance mewled softly, rubbing his face against the silken bedding, eyes half-lidded, lips open and shiny with moisture every time his small pink tongue ran over them. The Lion fucked him slowly, without a hurry, thrusts steady and deep - and yes, having a cock was a better choice in this life, he was happy to take his kit like that, make him all vulnerable and weak, and blissed out. When Lance tried to raise his hips up to meet the thrusts, however, the Lion was moving back accordingly, not letting himself be pushed into a harsher tempo - he was waiting a few moments it took his vessel to whine a bit and settle down, before resuming the motions again. He always rewarded the kit for submitting - licked over his lips, nuzzled the soft skin underneath of his jaw, laid dozen small kisses over his temple and brow, whispered unbridled praise to his amazing human, aware that it only heightened the boy’s desire.

It took a bit to synchronise them, in a way. The tribute was so young and  sensitive that it didn't take much to push him over the edge - it was a magnificent thing to witness, of course, but the Lion had a much greater stamina and after a few rather stressful attempts, understood that he can't just keep going. Lance was easy to overwhelm and, in the end, ended up experiencing more suffering than pleasure while the god took his share. It was unacceptable.

Like this, was fine. With the boy submitting so sweetly, the Lion had time to build his ecstasy slowly, steadily, pulling the kit with him until they both toppled over, blinded by the pleasure and the power released between them in this moment. It made them both stronger, more attuned to one another.

But that was a long way from here, the Lion mused happily, he was not yet ready to let them come. Even if Lance was squirming under him, legs splitting wider and back arching more to take each thrust deeper and deeper, to feel it more.

“Shh, sweetling,” the Lion whispered to his vessel, lips stretched into a pleased smile. “Do not fight me now, I will get you there. Don't I always?” To punctuate his words he allowed one stronger thrust, aiming for that special place inside that made his Lance whine brokenly into their entwined hands. “See? Just a bit more and we can let go together.”

“P..please I… I…” The human stuttered, lips swollen from him biting on them all the time to keep the louder moans in. “I ne _-ah!_ -need… _hmm…!_ ”

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, I have you.”

The sweetest surrender came out of the deepest trust and the Lion felt warmth spread through his heart when his human settled back down - letting him lead, trusting him to speak the truth. Letting him have control over his body in such way.

Like that it was nice, too. Unhurried tempo gave the god a chance to feel his lover every inch of the way as he was leaving and entering his body. Pushing his hips against the perfect round cheeks, tight to the skin - the last inch a bit stronger, stop for a breath before retreating again, to the rhythm of his vessel’s heartbeat, using the little hitches in his breaths for guidance.

When the hitches raised in tone it was the time to speed up, not a moment before. Push harder, the pause at the end of nearly every thrust disappearing, the privilege of breathing in-between revoked. The Lion braced his arms on both sides of his human and mated him with vigour, feeling his own body tighten in anticipation.

He nuzzled into Lance’s soft cheek, covered the shivering lips with his own to catch every moan, every startled breath trying to escape them. He was hungry for his vessel, for every little reaction and every sign of his impending release.

When it finally hit, the Lion curled around the human, holding him close, tight within his embrace as they both shook and shivered through the waves of pleasure crashing into them from the place that connected their bodies. Lance moaned loudly as he was filled with the hot seed of his god and the god purred, pleased to have his kit marked, to have their energies mis in such intimate way. He’s had many vessels across the ages, but very few so warm and malleable.  

The waves crashed and rolled over them, winding down slowly, as the god and the mortal regained their breaths and their wits. Lance whimpered and shifted, wordlessly demanding to be released from the tight hold and the Lion let him go. Not far, not fast, his cock was still inside and his mate had to work at removing it for a bit. A low purr resonated across the sprawling chamber and Lance flushed up to his ears - the Lion stared at his abused opening and the pearlescent fluid leaking out against his attempts to stop it.

“Don’t be shy, my own,” the Lion purred, pulling him close to nuzzle at the warm temple, into the tickling hair. Blue-tinted hand slipped easily down the kit’s back and slipped between his cheeks to gently prod at the swollen hole. “It’s nothing to be ashamed off. This is a sign of our bond, this is my life-force mixing with yours. Shh, trust me.”

But the human still hid his face in the pillow. “It’s embarrassing… can I wash?”

“Not yet, my own.” The kit keened a bit when the fingers at his opening moved as if to massage it gently. “Once our energies settle, then you can. You know of it.”

Lance hummed in content and then flushed again when the Lion very slowly and ostensibly licked his fingers clean. He was such a pure, endearing boy, his latest tribute, so adorable.

But also tired. Joining Quintessence with another was a tiresome process, after all, and soon enough the kit turned drowsy and weak under the gentle caress of the blue hands.     

“When... are we done… with this whole...?” Lance blinked slowly, stretching out on the pillows in the circle of warmth his god gave out. “Can... can I go... home… yet?”

“Now?” Lion raised one eyebrow at their severely underdressed state.

Lance lowered his eyes, but giggled at the humour. “...no… not now… now sleepy…”

The Lion hummed in agreement and pulled the kit up and on himself, the warm human body laying on him like a blanket, tucked the dark head under his chin and purred loudly to encourage a calm, dreamless sleep.

  
  


 


End file.
